


The Mane of My Existence

by hotpants



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hair, M/M, One Shot, was working toward a 5+1 fic before it mutated into something else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotpants/pseuds/hotpants
Summary: Or Lance and Keith's Hair: A Love Story





	The Mane of My Existence

 

‘Hey Keith, Solid Snake called. He wants his mullet back.’

Keith rolled his eyes before turning to glare at the smirking blue paladin. Keith had no idea what Lance was talking about this time but he knew it was an insult.

‘Technically, it’s not a mullet,’ Pidge sitting beside him said, drawing Keith’s attention away from Lance. ‘A mullet is defined as business in the front, party in the back. Keith’s hair is kind of a party everywhere.’

The three of them had been sent on a recon mission to locate a Blade of Marmora hideout within a thick jungle that reminded Keith of pictures he’d seen of the Amazon. Luckily, there weren’t any vicious jaguars (or alien versions of jaguars), but the journey had been a slog, as they had to use their bayards to cut a path through the thick brush.

It was tiring work and soon Keith called a break, his arms aching, throat dry. He almost regretted taking his helmet off, the jungle air draping over his face like a heavy, moist veil.

‘Pidge, I admire that intellectual mind of yours but that thing on Keith’s head is a bona fide, outdated, super uncool mullet.’

Scratch that, he definitely regretted taking his helmet off. ‘If you’re both done,’ Keith bit out as he stood up to put it back on. ‘We still have about three miles to go. Let’s get to it.’

‘Sure thing, oh fearless one!’ Lance mock saluted, to which Keith’s eyes narrowed. 

He turned his back on Lance, readying his bayard. Suddenly, slicing his blade through something thick and annoying seemed like a fun idea.

He tried not to fall for the blue paladin’s obvious goading about his hair, because it would prove that he cared about the way he looked—which he didn’t!  In fact, he thought his hair looked perfectly fine the way it was (even if the long locks did sometimes get in the way).

It only bothered him because Lance would not let it go. The first or second time, Keith was willing to let slide, but Lance seemed perfectly eager to tease him about his ‘mullet’ on an almost daily basis. That is, when he wasn’t mocking Keith for being too serious or for getting kicked out of the Garrison. This whole ‘rivalry’ thing that existed in Lance’s imagination was starting to get old.

Keith had that prickling feeling like he was being watched and he turned his head quickly to find Lance’s eyes on him, which widened slightly as he was caught.

‘What?’ Keith asked irritably.

‘Nothing! Nothing.’ Lance raised his hands in surrender, a big guilty smile in his face. ‘Though if you must know, I was wondering if it crawls off your head after you go to sleep at night and—’

‘Uuuugh, enough!’ Keith turned and violently sliced his way ahead, leaving his two giggling companions behind.

 

*

 

‘Hey, cut it out mullet!’

‘Cut WHAT out?’ Keith shot back at Lance. ‘You’re the one getting in my way!’

‘That’s my line, dummy!’ Lance shot back.

‘Guys,’ Shiro interrupted from his seat on the sidelines. ‘It’s your team’s serve. Let’s go.’

It was a rare day of quiet in the castle so Lance and Hunk, itching for a physical activity that didn’t involve training exercises, decided it would be a good opportunity to teach Coran and Allura how to play the popular Earthling game of volleyball.

Coran dug around the lower storage rooms of the castle to find a suitable ball, and Allura programmed a holographic net and court lines in the training deck. Shiro and Pidge were keen to play, and Keith joined in too—although he was a little annoyed that his plans to spar with the battle bots had been disrupted by this impromptu intergalactic cultural exchange.

They divided into two teams of three (Coran, Hunk and Allura on one side, Pidge, Lance and Keith on the other) with Shiro refereeing—and soon they were underway, the Alteans easily picking up the game.

‘This is much like Varoozpur!’ Coran exclaimed happily as he high-fived Hunk after their team scored another point. ‘Very popular ball game from Nalquod. Only the ‘net’ in that game is on fire, and there are twelve balls in play. I prefer this game, however! Much less likely to end up with singed whiskers!’

‘Awesome, I’m glad you feel that way.’ Hunk replied, looking slightly nauseous. No doubt he was making a mental note never to say ‘yes’ next time an alien asks him to take part in their popular games, Keith thought in amusement.

Despite Keith’s team having the advantage of them all having played before (with Lance even being a former player on his high school’s team), they were getting thrashed by Hunk’s team of novice players who had the advantage of alien super-strength.

Still, he had to admit this was fun—but would it kill Lance to stay on his side of the court and not keep hogging all the spike shots? He spared a glance to said teammate who was looking frustrated, rubbing a hand through his cropped hair. Keith’s eyes couldn’t help but travel along Lance’s bare arms, which had become more muscular and defined these last few months. Not that Keith liked the look of them or anything—he was glad his fellow paladin was putting less time playing video games and more time on the training deck. That’s all.

‘I did it!’ Allura cried excitedly as she spiked the ball onto their court, earning her team another point. Keith’s eyes narrowed. Was it just him or did she look taller than usual?

He tucked his hair behind his ears, grumbling as one lock immediately fell back out of place. His hair had been a nuisance today, spilling across his face every time he jumped for the ball.

‘Here’ came Pidge’s voice, and he turned to see her arm outstretched with something in her hand. He looked down to see it was a hair tie. ‘I always have one on me. Old habits die hard I guess.’ She smiled. ‘You can keep it.’

He returned her smile, as he took the hair tie from her. ‘Thanks Pidge.’

He quickly tied his hair into a messy ponytail, sighing in satisfaction as he felt cool air hit the sweat on his neck. This was much better.

He managed to score a few more points, helping to close the gap between the two team’s scores. Until—

‘Yo, heads up!’

Keith whipped around, alert as he looked for the ball coming his way—just to see it collide directly with Lance’s face in a loud smack.

‘Lance! Hunk and Allura both cried out, as the other boy stumbled to the ground.

Keith and Pidge raced over to where Lance was lying flat on his back, his hands pressed over his face, muffling his curses.

‘Are you okay?’ Keith asked worriedly as he knelt down beside him. That had been a really nasty hit, considering how much power Allura had put into it.

‘Feels like my face got hit by a speeding truck.’ Lance mumbled in a pained voice. He slowly removed his hand away from his face, his blue eyes peering blearily up at Keith. ‘Please tell me my nose isn’t broken.’

Keith looked him over. There was redness that had bloomed around the forehead and under one eye that might lead to swelling—but to Keith’s relief there was no blood, no facial features out of place.

‘Your nose isn’t broken,’ Keith told him. ‘Too bad. It might have improved your face a bit.’

‘Glad to see you found your sense of humor at last, as garbage as it is.’ Lance grit out as he slowly pulled himself upright.

Shiro appeared suddenly at Keith’s side. ‘Are you okay Lance?’ He asked clearly in Concerned Space Dad™ mode. ‘You’re not feeling light-headed or anything, right? Maybe we should get you to a healing pod.’

‘I’m fine, Shiro.’ Lance waved him off. ‘I’ll just sit out of the game with an icepack or whatever. Really, I’m fine.’

‘Well…okay.’ Shiro replied, not entirely convinced. ‘But you sit near me okay? And let me know if you start feeling sleepy or worse. Head injuries are no joke.’

‘Yes, Dad. Thanks.’ He smiled warmly at the older man. He glanced at Keith. ‘Hey rat-tail. Help me up?’

Keith let out a huff of annoyance but he wordlessly helped Lance to his feet. If he’s back to childish name-calling it was probably a sign he was fine.

‘Oh my goodness Lance, I am so sorry!’ Allura cried from the other side of the net, looking horrified. ‘I thought we were all ready to play!’

‘It’s fine…Allura’ Lance gave her a thumbs up and a reassuring smile, though Keith could see the pain tugging at it. ‘It was an accident.’

‘Yeah, it wasn’t your fault, Allura.’ Pidge piped up. ‘After all, if Lance’s attention hadn’t been _elsewhere_ he would have been fine.’

‘Hey excuse you Gunderson, I WAS paying attention!’ Lance replied defensively, his cheeks turning as pink as his forehead. ‘It just caught me by surprise that’s all!’

But Pidge just smiled, a wicked gleam in her eye.

‘Are you sure you won’t go to the med bay?’ Keith asked. He was puzzled by the exchange but thought little of it.

Lance rolled his eyes in dramatic fashion, face still pink. ‘I’m fine, man. I took worse hits when I played in high school.’ And without warning, he reached out and tugged Keith’s ponytail gently.

‘What was that for?’ Keith yelped, jerking away from Lance. He felt his face grow hot, his hand instinctively reaching to touch the offended ponytail.

‘Oh. My God.’ He heard Pidge mutter.

Lance grinned cheekily, despite still looking dazed from the hit. ‘For good luck. It’s on you and Pidge to win this now.’

‘You idiot!’ Keith growled but Lance only laughed as he walked off the court.

 (Keith and Pidge ended up winning but only because Keith was that irritated and the Alteans decided not to use their super strength and shapeshifting to cheat anymore).

 

*

 

‘Keith…’

He didn’t give the other boy a chance to speak further as he moved in to capture his lips in another kiss.

Lance made an annoyed sound in his throat but deepened the kiss, pulling Keith closer.

The latest mission was success, though just barely. The paladins raided a heavily-fortified Galra weapons factory to free slaves that had been kidnapped from the nearby moon of Lyta.

Once the Lytans had been successfully evacuated to the castle ship, the plan was to blow up the factory with a timed detonation, halting the Galra weapon production. Keith was charged with activating the bomb and he had plenty of time to escape with the Black Lion—that is, until he spotted a lone Galra operative running away from the operations centre, a briefcase-like container in his hand.

Never one to let an opportunity for enemy intel slip away, Keith chased after the operative who turned out to be surprisingly proficient with duel swords—clearly one of their more elite warriors. Well aware of the ticking time bomb and his teammates screaming in his ear (with Lance’s voice being the loudest), Keith fought with all his skill and might against the formidable foe before finally besting him and hightailing it out of the factory, mysterious container in hand.

For one heart-stopping moment the other paladins thought the Black Lion had been caught in the blast of the bomb—until it emerged from the blaze like a movie action hero, with only a few dents and scratches to show for it.

Keith himself had come out of the mission with a shallow stab wound and a few bruises, but was just as fine. If anything, the crushing paladin group hug he had been captured in was more painful than anything that psycho blade-wielding space ninja had inflicted on him.

Lance had been curiously absent from the group hug—in fact Keith didn’t see him until much later when he entered the training deck to find the blue paladin, arms crossed and leaning against the simulation console, glare fixed on Keith.

Keith wanted to know what his problem was. Lance demanded to know why he was training when hours ago his stupid, reckless mullet had nearly been blasted away to kingdom come.

This angered Keith who argued that his quick-thinking earned them top-secret schematics for a Galra superweapon and asked why Lance of all people would care and to get out of the way, to which Lance refused.

It turned into a back and forth match, insults and accusations that cut sharper the more they continued, until an enraged Keith grabbed Lance by the front of his shirt, shoved him roughly against the wall and furiously repeated his question.

Keith expected Lance to sock him in the face, was bracing for it. What he didn’t expect was for him to sag, the rage vanishing from him like air escaping a balloon. The quiet answer that followed was the last thing that Keith expected.

 Nor did he expect to realize how welcome that answer was.

Keith’s breath hitched as Lance’s hand stroked his side, accidentally touching the bandaged stab wound.

‘Sorry,’ Lance murmured. He raised his hand to Keith’s hair, gently raking his fingers through the dark strands. Keith liked the sensation, leaning into the touch when Lance did it again. He shivered as Lance brushed his hand against the shell of his ear, before twirling a finger around one of Keith’s locks. Keith wondered if Lance was about to kill the mood with another mullet joke but instead he said softly, ‘You should be in a healing pod right now.’

‘Enough,’ Keith chided, but with no bite. He was too distracted by the intensity of those blue eyes gazing at him, like Keith was the only thing that existed. It was overwhelming.

Lance smiled warmly, his other hand coming up to thread his fingers in Keith’s hair, before bringing him into another kiss.

 

*

 

‘Pretty please? With a cherry on top?’

‘You must be kidding.’

‘When am I ever not serious about personal grooming Keith?’ Lance asked, sliding closer to him. Keith could the heat radiating off the other’s body. ‘Come on, let me.’

The paladins were guests of Queen Xalarina XIV of planet Xaloph, a peaceful and agriculturally rich world that that was known for growing and trading a sought-after spice to the rest of the galaxy. For the last two hundred years their trade had been under Galran control, until a resistance group secretly funded by the Queen (who had played the role of puppet ruler magnificently) reached out to Princess Allura for assistance in regaining independence.

Victorious and celebrating the addition of a wealthy and influential ally to the Voltron cause, the paladins were in high spirits when they arrived at the Queen’s estate.

As Xalophians were on average about nine feet tall, the accommodations provided were extremely generous. The guest room beds were approximately four times the size of a king size bed, and Lance had spent a good five minutes gleefully rolling back and forth from one end of their bed to the other.

The best surprise however, was the ginormous bathtub in their adjoining bathroom. The Castle of Lions had plenty of showers and the swimming pool, but no bathtubs (as according to Coran, Alteans did not particularly like being submerged in hot water). It was their first real bath since leaving Earth, something even Keith was eager to indulge in.

 ‘Come on, let me wash your hair.’ Lance persisted.

‘Why?’ Keith batted away the hand that was stretching toward him. ‘I’m not a kid, I can do it myself.’

‘Because number one it’s what loving couples do for one another, and number two you’ve been skipping on conditioner lately and it’s killing me inside.’

Keith let out an irritated huff but he relented, allowing Lance to maneuver him so that he was sitting with his back to his boyfriend.

‘Fine, but any cracks about my hair and I’m getting out.’ Keith warned, though it came out less sternly then he intended.

Lance hmmed absently and soon Keith felt long fingers comb through his hair, gently at first, then more vigorously as Lance lathered what passes for Xalophian shampoo into his hair. Once, he accidentally tugged too hard causing Keith to wince. Murmuring an apology, Lance continued to lather more gently, slowly massaging Keith’s scalp.

Since they started dating, Lance had become touchy-feely in a way that went beyond Keith’s expectations of how he thought couples acted. Sure, he knew there would be kissing and sex, but Lance also liked to hold his hand or lean into his side when they sat together, offer him backrubs and even try (and fail) to give Keith facial treatments. Growing up with just his secretive Dad before he was left alone, Keith didn’t really experience a lot of physical affection–in contrast to Lance who had come from a huge, loving family. It was weird, but not in a bad way. Just…something Keith had to get used to.

And he had to admit, the pressure of Lance’s fingers against his scalp was amazing, not too much but enough to send delicious tingles throughout his body. Lance’s loving attention, mixed with the hot bath water was fast turning his muscles into goo.

‘Tip your head back,’ Lance ordered softly.

Keith obeyed, and he felt warmth trickle down his head as Lance poured a cup of water, rinsing out the suds.

A strong floral smell permeated the air and Lance’s fingers returned, this time running through the ends of Keith’s locks ensuring his hair got plenty of conditioner. Keith supposed Lance would move away to let the conditioner sit awhile, but instead he continued to run his fingers up the back of his neck and slowly through his hair.

‘I think that’s enough,’ Keith murmured after a while, though reluctantly.

‘Hmm?’

‘I think you’ve conditioned it enough.’

‘Oh...yeah, ok.’ Lance’s fingers disappeared, but they quickly returned as he once again rinsed his hair with warm water.

Even after all of the conditioner had been washed out, Lance’s hands lingered, gently untangling any remaining kinks.

‘How do you feel?’ He asked.

‘It was nice.’ Keith admitted, smiling softly as he turned to face his boyfriend. In truth, he felt much more relaxed than he had felt in a long time. ‘Thank you.’

‘It was my pleasure.’

Keith raised an eyebrow at Lance, whose face was pink—from the heat of the bath or something else, Keith wasn’t sure.

‘You enjoy washing my hair now, do you?’ Keith asked.

‘Pfft please,’ Lance snorted loudly. ‘If I’m going to be stuck with a mullet, I’m going to make damn sure it’s the nicest mullet in the known universe. It’s just luck that it happens to be sitting on top of that pretty face.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Keith replied, unconvinced. He had noticed lately, whether it was an affectionate pat on the head or gripped in the heat of passion, Lance’s hands always found their way to Keith’s hair. He was baffled at first, but Keith was starting to suspect that Lance’s fixation on his ‘mullet’ might not be what it seemed.

He might bring it up with Lance another day. For now, he wanted to enjoy this rare moment of peace with Lance—forget just for a while that outside of this room they were paladins of Voltron, whose mission and duty to protect others stood above everything else.

Keith leaned forward and pecked Lance gently on the lips. ‘Hey.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Turn around. Let me return the favor.’

‘Really?’ Lance eyes lit up. ‘Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.’

‘I know.’ Keith said, gently nudging Lance to turn.  ‘And I want to make it good for you.’ He murmured in his boyfriend’s ear, delighting in the slight shiver it brought.

Later when they laid down to go to sleep, Lance pressed himself against Keith’s back, nose buried in freshly clean hair.

 

*

 

‘Are you sure about this?’

Keith nodded. Allura was standing beside him, glancing warily at his reflection in the large mirror before them.

It had been seven years since he and the others departed Earth in the Blue Lion to fight an intergalactic war, seven years of danger, fear, loss, friendship, love and victory.

The fight against the Galra wasn’t over but the paladins of Voltron and the Altean princess they served had made huge strides in their quest for peace in a universe that had suffered for so long under the tyrannic thumb of Zarkon. After so much struggle and uncertainty, an end to the conflict now seemed within reach.

Keith thought back on his younger self and how much he had changed for the better—all thanks to Shiro’s mentorship and wisdom, Hunk’s reliable support, Pidge’s infectious enthusiasm, Allura’s determination and strength, Coran’s nurture and kindness…and Lance.

Lance who was the first to question his decisions but always had his back, in and out of battle. Lance who got colossally upset every time Keith put himself in the firing line to protect everyone else but was always waiting, ready to patch his wounds. Lance who made sure Keith was eating and sleeping enough when the red paladin got too absorbed with his leader duties, and made him laugh with his stupid jokes whenever Keith beat himself up over his latest perceived failure. Lance who often told him ‘I love you’, and though Keith always believed it, just hearing the words never failed to set off a bloom of warmth that spread throughout his body right down to his toes.

It didn’t really hit him until this morning when he looked in the mirror, just how much he changed—that the long hair he always liked now seemed too young, too reckless for him.

He decided then and there that he wanted to symbolize that change.

‘It almost seems like a farewell, as silly as that sounds.’ Allura said wistfully, toying lightly with the ends of his hair. Even after Keith and Lance gotten together and despite the latter’s protests, she was still the person he came to when he needed a trim. For one thing, Allura never uttered the ‘m’ word, and for another, it was one of the few moments that Keith could just relax and talk with Allura about anything besides Zarkon or mission plans.

 ‘This is your last chance to back out.’ Allura warned gently.

‘Do it.’ Keith confirmed.

But Allura barely raised the scissors to chop its first lock when the door slid open.

‘Stoooooooooooooooooop!’ Lance shrieked running into the room. ‘Stop stop stop!’

‘Lance!’ Allura shrieked, nearly dropping the scissors in surprise. ‘What is going on?’

Hunk and Pidge came in shortly after, panting like they had sprinted from one end of the castle to the other.

‘Keith!’ Lance turned the swivel chair around planting his hands on both sides of the other man’s face. ‘You got to stop this right now!’

‘What the—what is it?’ Keith automatically brought his hands up to grip Lance’s biceps, worried. ‘What’s wrong?’

Lance paused to take a deep breath, exhaling loudly through his nostrils.

‘The mice told Pidge who told Hunk who told ME that you were cutting your hair.’ Lance said in a distressed voice. ‘Tell me that isn’t true!’

There was a brief, baffled silence. And then:

‘Are you serious right now?!’ Keith erupted as he wrestled out of Lance’s grip. ‘I thought we were under attack or something!’

‘Why didn’t you tell me!’ Lance wailed, looking like Keith had committed the ultimate betrayal, his eyes shining as tears threatened to burst.

‘Seriously?’ Keith replied incredulously. ‘You’ve been making fun of my hair since we were teenagers!’

‘Y-yeah, and?’ Lance rebutted. ‘If you cut it off, what am I going to make fun of, huh?’

‘I’m sure you’ll find something in no time,’ Keith replied irritably, trying to swivel around away from Lance.

‘No! Wait, Keith! I’m sorry! Please don’t cut your hair! It will—it will ruin our team dynamic!’

‘What.’ Keith answered flatly.

‘How?’ Allura asked, a silver eyebrow raised.

‘Jeebus.’ Pidge groaned while Hunk facepalmed.

‘I mean….y-you’ve had that hair for god knows how long, what if we’re on a mission and me or Pidge mistake you for an enemy or something?’

‘Oh gee—you could, I dunno, look at the color of my armor? Or even the color helmet I’m wearing OVER my hair maybe?!’ Keith stood up out of the chair and placed a firm hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

‘Lance’ he said, looking at him directly. ‘I’m cutting my hair. Unless you tell me the real reason why I shouldn’t.’

The room fell silent as Lance looked at Keith like a deer caught in headlights. Pidge tried but couldn’t suppress her snort.

‘Yeah, Lance.’ She said dryly. ‘Why is it you don’t want Keith to cut off his hair? It must be terribly important.’

Keith watched in amazement as Lance’s face instantly turned fuchsia, eyes wide and as he kept opening and closing his mouth, seemingly out of (terrible) excuses.

‘Lance?’ He poked. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Okay, fine!’ Lance exploded, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat. ‘I like your stupid hair okay?! It’s freaking gorgeous and it feels good and I can’t live without it!’

Keith was stunned silent. He had long suspected that Lance secretly liked his hair, but to hear him come out and say it…well, he wasn’t expecting to be react like a blushing teenager, his heartbeat racing as fast as the moment the other man first confessed his true feelings for him.

Lance was looking at him with a look of mortification his face, bracing for a barrage of mockery and insults. And while it was justified (given he had not SHUT UP about his ‘dumb mullet’ for the last several years) Keith didn’t have the heart for it.

‘Alright,’ He sighed relaxing his grip on Lance. ‘If it bothers you that much…I won’t cut my hair.’

He heard twin ‘aaaaw’ noises from Allura and Hunk, and saw Pidge make a gagging motion out of the corner of his eye.

 ‘Well…good!’ Lance replied standing straight, arms folded together all business-like as though he hadn’t made an anguished love confession to Keith’s hair a minute ago. ‘I’m glad that’s settled. Now let’s pretend this didn’t happen and…I don’t know, go get lunch or something.’

‘Okay.’ Keith followed Lance out of the room, whose blue eyes fixed ahead, face still adorably red. Keith chuckled, reaching out to take his boyfriend’s hand in this.

‘Well, I’m certainly glad that’s over!’ He heard Allura’s fading voice. ‘How long has this bizarre love/hate relationship been going on for? Since you arrived from Earth?’

‘Try freshman year at the Garrison,’ came Hunk’s reply. ‘First day of class when Keith sat two rows in front of Lance and me. I swear I saw hearts.’

Lance groaned, palming his face. He picked up the pace, hurrying the pair along, far away from their beloved friends.

 Keith allowed the silence to continue for a couple of minutes. ‘So...’ He began, conversationally.

‘Not another word.’

‘Really, Lance?’

‘Yeah. Just because I don’t hate your dumb hair doesn’t mean you need to get a big head about it.’

‘Oh, so my hair is ‘dumb’ now?’ Keith asked, innocently. ‘What happened to it being so ’freaking gorgeous and you can’t live without it?’’

‘Ugh, can I take it back?’ Lance bemoaned, leaning into his boyfriend, who chuckled in response.

‘Are you kidding?’ Keith replied. ‘After what you put me through the last seven years?’

‘Alright fine! But I’m going to put in the record here and now, it’s way cuter when you wear it in a ponytail.’

Keith grinned, raising his hand to scrub through Lance’s hair which, incidentally, was due for a trim of its own. ‘I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,’ he replied, before resting his head on Lance’s shoulder.

Keith still wanted to cut his hair, but he supposed he could keep it for a little while longer just to appease his silly boyfriend.

Hell, it might even make for a good bargaining chip.

**Author's Note:**

> Me (before I started this fic): I doubt this will be more than 1500 words!  
> Me (when I finished this fic): I dOubt thiS wIll Be morE ThAn 1500 wOrDs!
> 
> I can’t promise I won’t make minor revisions to this later down the track, as I’m not completely satisfied with it (though what writer is). Hope you enjoyed it anyhow!


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